


The Lion's Roar

by ImagineYourself



Series: A Thousand Unfinished Books [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feels, Fluff, M/M, Mama Stilinski Feels, Panic Attacks, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song The Lion's Roar by First Aid Kit. There's just one day of the year where Stiles utterly refuses to talk to anyone. And a certain alpha is determined to figure him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion's Roar

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by my best friend <3
> 
> So I wrote this before the episode aired where Stiles is asked why he cares and I just realized the parallels here and it makes it even worse I'm so sorry for the feels.
> 
> Playlist is:  
> The Lion's Roar ~ First Aid Kit  
> Transatlanticism ~ Death Cab for Cutie  
> Parachute ~ Train

_Now the pale morning sings of forgotten things_

_She plays a tune for those who wish to overlook_

As soon as Stiles woke up, he made sure his phone was off. He left it on his desk and meandered to the kitchen. Sheriff Stilinski passed him by with barely a muttered greeting and went straight out the door, completely ignoring Stiles’ grunt of a response. Stiles glanced around the fridge for a moment before sighing and shutting it, turning away and suddenly remembering that it was a Tuesday and he was supposed to be at school in twenty minutes.

“Yeah, definitely not going today,” he muttered to himself, catching his own facial expression in the reflection on the door of the microwave. He stuck his tongue out to himself and went back into his room to collapse onto his bed and stare moodily at the wall. He took a deep breath and let it out in another heavy sigh.

It was a few hours later when Stiles got up again and went to the shower, finding himself still standing under the spray another half hour later. Finally, he was dressed and (not at all) ready for the day. With one last look at his phone, still sitting on his desk, Stiles picked up his keys and went out to his jeep, jumping in with a little less fervor than he usually had. There was only one place that he wanted to go, but first, he had to make a pit-stop. And pray that no one there would know him or ask him why he wasn’t in school. Yeah, that could cause a problem.

 

_But don't you come here and say I didn't warn you_

_About the way your world can alter_

And so it was almost an hour later that Stiles found himself walking through Beacon Hills Cemetery, a bouquet of flowers in one hand. His feet took him straight to a patch of grass and a stone he knew well. Stiles crouched and set the flowers on the ground carefully, his fingers trailing over the letters carved into the headstone.

“Hey, Mom,” he said quietly. “Figured I’d come by today since I didn’t last year.” He sat down, folding his arms around his knees and looking at his mother’s name. “’Beloved wife and mother’,” he read, laughing slightly before continuing, “Yeah they really don’t give much justice to you on these things, huh?”

“So, uh,” Stiles muttered ineloquently, rubbing a hand quickly through his short hair, “I guess I should tell you what’s been going on lately. I mean, a lot has happened. A lot. Scott’s a werewolf—alpha—now, and he was dating the daughter of some crazy werewolf hunter, but they broke up.” Stiles snorted. “Bad idea in the first place, right? I told him so, but he’s still so whipped it’s disgusting. He would _not_ shut up about how great the sex was for the longest time. Oh, wait I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He waved his hands in front of him. “Forget I said that.”

Stiles sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It’s been a tough year so far. The good news is that my plan to make Lydia fall in love with me has slowly been almost kind of sorta working. Okay, not really. I mean she’s still totally in love with Jackson, who was actually this creepy lizard thing that tried to kill me and Derek. Oh, Derek. That’s another thing. He’s another crazy werewolf. God, everyone is just going crazy. Sometimes I feel like the only sane person, and that’s rich coming from me and my stupid head.

“So now we’ve just got this pack of alphas after us and I’m just… nothing. I’m nothing. I’m the guy everyone turns to when they need to look up something but are too lazy to pick up a dictionary. And I can’t… I can’t help anyone. I’m not a werewolf. I’m not trained or anything. And I still suck at lacrosse. So I’m just me, just watching all of my friends get hurt and die around me and I don’t know what to do, Mom.”

_And oh how you try to command it all still_

_Every single time it all shifts one way or the other_

 

Stiles rocked back and forth a little bit, sniffing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be complaining about all of this to you. But I don’t really have anything else to say.” He sat there for a long time, eyes tracing the letters of her name as his fingers played with the blades of grass around him. It felt like hours later when he stood up and stretched out his legs. “I miss you, Mom,” he muttered, staring down at the headstone before turning back to his jeep, head hanging.

It was only a few steps later, though, that he looked up and stopped short.

Derek was standing under a nearby tree, his arms crossed. And Stiles was so not in the mood to deal with his broody face and obnoxious personality. He just wanted to be alone. He just wanted to sulk in the memory of his mom and—wait, had Derek listened to what Stiles had just been saying?

“Oh, come on!” Stiles said in an exasperated tone, flinging his arms to his sides. He stomped to his jeep, unsurprised when Derek met him there, his facial expression never changing. Stiles just scowled at him. “What do you want?”

“I was calling you earlier. You didn’t answer,” Derek said in monotone.

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I’m taking the day off. How did you find me anyway?” he asked suspiciously.

Derek sighed slightly, but his stony face seemed to soften a little. “I asked Scott if he’d seen you and he told me about today. He said you might be here.”

Turning his head away, Stiles cursed. “Damn it, Scott.” He knew Scott was smart enough to remember the date, but he had really been hoping that his best friend would keep it to himself. No one needed to know. “Well, what’s so important that you just had to come and find me then? If it’s about that research, no I haven’t found anything yet. I was going to look at it later.”

Derek shook his head. “No, it’s not about that.”

“It’s not?” Stiles was genuinely surprised, albeit a bit confused. “Oookay? Then why?”

The alpha sighed and muttered irritably, “Because I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Me? Okay? Really?” Stiles spluttered. He met Derek’s serious gaze for a moment. “Well, yeah, I’m—I’m fine,” he said, gesturing with his hand nervously.

Derek raised a brow. “Really.”

Stiles had been trying to keep his cool. _Trying_ being the key word. But it was really hard when all he wanted was to be alone and Derek had this annoying way of getting under Stiles’ skin with even just a look. And boy was he irritating Stiles right then. “Yeah, really. Now, you got what you wanted, you can leave now.”

“Why?”

Stiles stared at him. “Look, I really just want to be alone, okay? Why are you so concerned anyway? It’s not like I’m part of your pack or anything, or like you have any right to be worried. Are you even worried? Or are you just trying to annoy me right now?” He was talking fast, but he was itching to go. To get away from the werewolf’s prying gaze.

Derek’s expression barely even twitched, but he muttered, “Stiles…”

“You are trying to annoy me, aren’t you? Well, it’s working. So good for you, but you can go pat yourself on the back somewhere else because I really just want to get out of here right now.” Stiles didn’t even have the patience to try and calm himself. He was done. So with that said, Stiles turned towards his jeep and moved to pull the door open, but Derek grabbed his arm.

“Stiles—“ he started.

“Get off me!” Stiles almost shouted, trying to shake him off. But Derek’s strength was not something Stiles could rival even on his best days. He needed to get out. He needed to get away. It was too much. He shouldn’t have gone there. He shouldn’t have gone out. He should have just stayed home and lain on his bed and then he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

He could feel the panic attack creeping up on him.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come here. I didn’t come last year because of this.”

“Stiles!”

“I can’t be here.”

“Stiles, shut up!”

Stiles didn’t realize he was babbling until he suddenly couldn’t talk anymore because Derek’s mouth was pressed up against his own. He couldn’t breathe either. Then, Derek’s eyes were filling up his vision as he pulled away, but Stiles was frozen. His breath slowly returned and he blinked, panic attack averted.

“What the hell?” he whispered, finally focusing on Derek, who was just inches from his face. Derek was no longer holding him, but Stiles still felt trapped, and even though he didn’t feel his anxiety starting up again, he wanted more than ever to just be alone.

Because holy shit Derek Hale had just kissed him.

So Stiles managed to stammer out, “I, uh, I have to go now,” pointing over his shoulder towards his car and slipping away before Derek could grab him again. He jumped into the jeep and ignored Derek calling his name. He just drove.

 

_And I'm a goddamn coward, but then again so are you_

_And the lion's roar, the lion's roar_

_Has me evading and hollering for you_

_And I never really knew what to do_

 

It was still early afternoon when Stiles made it home and walked into his house to find his father sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He looked up when Stiles entered the room and smiled drunkenly in greeting.

“Hey kid,” he said.

“Uh, hey, Dad. Why are you home early?” Stiles hesitantly walked closer until he could curl his hands around the back of the chair across from his father.

“They said I should go home early today, you know, considering,” the sheriff slurred. He looked down at the table with an expression of pure misery. “Did you go to school today?” he asked.

“Uh, no. Look, Dad, I just want to go be alone for a while… okay?”

His father continued like he hadn’t even heard him. “That’s good. You know… I miss your mother.”

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek.

“She was so…” he broke off in a bitter laugh. As he raised the bottle in his hand to his lips, Stiles felt himself move around the table to grab his dad’s hand lightly and guide the bottle away from his mouth.

“Dad… uh, why don’t you go to bed or something? Sleep it off?” he asked quietly. His father nodded sadly.

“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea. Got work in the morning as always, right?”

“Yeah…” Stiles muttered, watching his dad stumble to his feet. He caught his arm and the sheriff thanked him tiredly.

Stiles stood still as he watched his father brace himself against the wall as he made his way to his bedroom. He glanced at the bottle still sitting on the table. Methodically, he put the cap back on it and set it in the cupboard where it belonged. Slowly, Stiles walked towards his own bedroom, his mind trying to turn away from his mother and onto figuring out just why the hell Derek had _kissed_ him.

It wasn’t like he had a total aversion to the guy. Yeah, Derek was an asshole, but he was damn attractive one, and Stiles couldn’t hide the fact that the fact that him being a super strong, broody, tough guy was a big turn on. But why the hell would Derek be interested in him?

 

_Well I guess sometimes I wish you were a little more predictable_

_That I could read you just like a book_

_For now I can only guess what's coming next_

_By examining your timid smile_

_And the ways of the old, old winds blowing you back 'round_

He slid into his room with a sigh, moving towards his desk and turning on his lamp, even though the sunlight filtering in through his window was enough to light up his room. He turned around and jumped, startled to see Derek standing by his bed, silently watching him.

“What the hell, man?” he hissed, his arms flailing. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” Derek said, almost as if he was trying to be sincere, but the expressionless look of his face made it really hard to tell.

“Why are you even here?” Stiles asked hotly. And while Stiles usually manages to stay calm for the most part, even in infuriating situations, he was really not a good mood and he could feel his temper starting to show.

“We need to talk,” Derek told him, taking a step forward.

“Oh _now_ you want to talk. You were just fine trying to shut me up not too long ago.” Stiles watched as the werewolf visibly winced. “Save it for later, I really just need to be alone right now, Derek.”

“If I save it for later, we’ll never talk about it,” Derek all but growls.

“Boo freaking hoo. Get out.”

“What, so you can just sulk alone?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s a lot easier to sulk when I don’t have an annoying sourwolf grating on my nerves.”

“It’s not going to do you any good anyway.”

“What do you care? Huh? Tell me that, why don’t you.” Stiles crossed his arms, looking at him expectantly.

“What do you have to be so upset about anyway?” Derek asked deflectively.

Stiles mouth dropped open. “Okay, let’s see. First, it’s my mom’s fucking death day anniversary. Second, because my best friend is a werewolf, he dragged me into this crazy fucked up world.” He gestured widely with his hands. “And now I get to see people fighting and dying and I have almost witnessed the deaths of my friends multiple times. That really leaves a mark! Especially considering that I can’t do a damn thing about it!”

He felt his voice rising, and before he knew it, he was outright shouting. “I’m not a werewolf! I don’t have super strength or speed or creepy-ass fangs! You know, I couldn’t even beat any of the other human guys on the lacrosse team if I had to fight them, that’s just how weak I am. I can’t help Scott. I can’t protect Lydia. I can’t fight the alphas. I can’t do anything!”

Stiles was breathing hard, air coming and going through his lungs rapidly. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. “I’m useless,” he whispered. His eyes were wide as he looked at the floor, his mouth and his lungs unable to work in sync. Unable to get enough air. “I’m useless,” he said again. He looked up at Derek, who was watching him with shock and concern. Stiles’ hand flew to his throat and his knees gave out.

Derek caught him before he even touched the carpet, and slowly, the alpha slid to the floor, his arms strong around Stiles, who was clutching at his jacket, his chest heaving. Stiles was trying to get his lungs to work again. He drew in gasps of air, trying to get his heart to stop racing and his head to stop spinning.

“You’re not useless,” Derek said quietly. “Maybe you’re not a werewolf, but you’re not useless.”

Stiles shut his eyes as his breathing slowly returned to normal and his heart to a more regular pace. They stayed like that for a long time, Derek’s back against Stiles’ bed, and the human held tight against his chest within the circle of his arms.

 

_And I'm a goddamn fool, but then again so are you_

_And the lion's roar, the lion's roar_

_Has me seeking out and searching for you_

_And I never really knew what to do_

Stiles thought he must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next time he opened his eyes, he could see the moon through his window, and when he moved his head, he could feel where he’d drooled on Derek’s jacket. He knew Derek was awake, because as soon as he started to pull away, the werewolf’s arms loosened and allowed him to sit up a little straighter.

Derek was watching him with soft eyes and Stiles cleared his throat nervously. “Sorry, I kind of drooled on you a bit.” Derek didn’t even look when Stiles pointed down with a twitch of his lips. “Um…” Stiles started to freak out just a little when a couple of minutes passed and Derek still hadn’t looked away from him. “What? What are you staring at? Do I have drool on my face? Oh my God I do, don’t I?”

“Stiles.”

“I do. Right?”

“Shut up.”

And he did, as soon as Derek kissed him again.

“You really don’t like me talking, do you?” Stiles dared to ask a moment later.

“I’d prefer it if you were making other sounds.”

Stiles’ brows rose up and he opened and closed his mouth, searching for something to say. Derek just lifted a corner of his mouth and pulled him in for another kiss.

“So I guess this means you like me or something?”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, yeah, shutting up now…”

“…”

“But really, you like me right?”

“Stiles!”

“Come on!”

“… Yes. I do. There. Now shut it.”

“I knew it! I mean I didn’t know for sure but I had the sneaking suspicion that you—mmf!”

Derek’s tongue pushed its way inside of Stiles’ mouth as their lips met again and again, wrapping around each other and moving together as one. Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat and Derek slid his arms around his waist, pulling Stiles on top of his lap. Stiles had his hands in Derek’s hair, tugging at him. He could feel the werewolf’s hands on his sides, his hips, the curve of his ass.

Stiles pulled away, his forehead resting against Derek’s as he panted. “Whoa there doggy, slow the fuck down.”

Derek didn’t move his hands, but he did open his eyes too look at Stiles. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, great as I’m sure you are in bed and as much as I’m liking the whole making out thing, I don’t really think we should be doing this right now. I mean it is still my mom’s…” Stiles trailed off, his hands sliding to Derek’s shoulders. “And I kind of just want to sleep now.”

Derek nodded stiffly and allowed Stiles to awkwardly clamber over him and on top of the bed. He flopped down with a sigh and watched as Derek got to his feet next to the bed. He looked a little lost as to what he was supposed to do, so Stiles scooted a little closer to the edge.

“You gonna get your little werewolf ass over here, or do I have to drag you?” he asked with a serious expression. He laughed at Derek’s indignant mouth twitch, but the werewolf just slipped out of his jacket and toed off his shoes. Stiles felt him crawl onto the bed behind him and put an arm around his waist, pulling him so their bodies were flush together. Stiles’ cheeks heated and he was glad that Derek couldn’t see his face.

“Stiles?” Derek started after a few minutes.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

Stiles body stiffened for a moment before he turned his head to look at the werewolf. “Thanks,” he said. Derek tightened his arm and Stiles relaxed. His gaze fell to the window where he could see the half-moon slowly rising, bright in the starry sky.

 

_And every once in a while I'd sing a song for you_

_That would rise above the mountains and the stars and the sea_

_And if I wanted it to it would lead you back to me_

 

Stiles was rudely awakened the next morning by someone shaking his shoulder. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes. He buried his face into his pillow, but the shaking still continued.

“Stiles, your dad is coming,” Derek hissed to him.

At that, Stiles bolted up and scrambled around on top of his bed, looking around before his eyes found the werewolf standing in front of him with a slightly amused expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but right then they both turned to the door as there was a knock. Stiles leaped out of his bed, nearly tripping and falling to the floor in his haste to get to the door. He threw it open, leapt out into the hallway and shut it quickly behind him. His father was standing there with his hand still raised, a surprised look on his face.

“Uh, hey, Dad. How’s it going?” Stiles asked him with a twitchy smile. He breathed out in a nervous laugh.

“I was just coming to make sure you were up,” his father replied slowly. “Are you hiding something?”

“Hiding something? Me? What? No! Of course not! Why—why would you think that?” Stiles put on his best shit-eating smile and leaned back against his door.

“Stiles, I know you’re lying.”

Stiles swallowed and the smile fell from his lips. “Well look, I mean it’s really nothing—”

“What are you—?”

“No really, Dad, you don’t need to look, there’s nothing!”

The sheriff gave his son a hard look and reached behind him to open the door. Stiles nearly fell backwards but he managed to catch himself on the door frame. He started to splutter a sentence of apology when he looked around and realized that his room was empty and his window was open. His father turned back to him with narrowed eyes.

“See, I told you! Nothing to see here!” He tugged on his dad’s arm, trying to pull him back out of the room. He left with a backwards glance, or three, towards Stiles, but the teen just shut his door and sighed heavily, looking at the window.

Derek was probably long gone.

He looked towards his desk, where his phone still sat from the day before. There was a piece of paper on top of it and he quickly hopped over to look at it. His name was written on the front but the inside featured a few scrawled words.

            _Call me after school_

Stiles couldn’t help the grin that tore over his mouth as he looked at the window again. “Derek Hale you bastard,” he muttered, practically skipping to his bathroom to start the day.

 

_And the lion's roar, the lion's roar_

_Is something that I have heard before_

_A children's tale, the lonesome wail of a lion's roar_


End file.
